... no cry for help. This is just what's on my mind. Two things.
1. When everything is not fine, I don't like listening to the pretense that it is. It probably means one is not looking hard enough. It's one thing to appreciate being where and when one is, to enjoy the moment of being there, and to acknowledge and choose to set aside the imperfections of a situation. It is a different thing entirely to ignore imperfections and pretend that everything is fine. Everything is not fine, and that fact is okay. It is not okay to lie and say everything is perfect.
2. Perfection breeds lifelessness. The neutral, grey, or safe is to me the most unforgivable condition. I love euphoria, and in fact crave it. I do not care for a passionless absence of flaws. I will always take the scarred, flat-chested, pimple-ridden, greasy, flaky, unsightly, assymetrical creature with an understanding of the fleeting nature of being over the complacent, clean, perfectly organized, bleached, saintly craft kept carefully between the lines with never a thought of venturing beyond the field of visibility. How boring and pointless. How completely pointless.
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